[b][i]The Republic of Erimir[/i][/b] [hider=Nation Status] [b]Current Leader/Government:[/b] Grand Sheriff Beryl Moss (Elective Republic) [b]Settlements Owned:[/b] 3 [b]Provinces Owned:[/b] 1 [b]Population:[/b] 179,000 [b]Population Happiness: 80%[/b] [b]Imports:[/b] Lumber, Iron, Ships, Fish [b]Exports:[/b] Cattle, Gunpowder, Superior Firearms, Conventional Weapons [b]Wealth:[/b] Average [b]Alliances:[/b] [b]Trade Pacts:[/b] Kingdom of Asax, Kingdom of Belmorn, Kingdom of Scharweilt, Kingdom of Elslen [b]Cease Fires:[/b] Kingdom of Elslen [/hider] Army Cards [hider=The Erimir Army] [i][b]The Army of Erimir[/b][/i] [b]Current General:[/b] Marshal Tommen [b]Location:[/b] Marching to assist Belmorn [indent] - /<450>// - /<500>//[/indent][/hider] [hider=Shire Militia] [i][b]The Deputies of the Shires[/b][/i] [b]Current General:[/b] High Sheriff Beryl Moss [b]Location:[/b] Defending Erimir. [indent]- /<1300>/<90%>/[/indent][/hider] [hider=Map of Erimir] [url=http://oi59.tinypic.com/34e7o2c.jpg]Larger Map[/url] [IMG]http://oi59.tinypic.com/34e7o2c.jpg[/IMG] [/hider] [center][b][u]Expanding Trade[/b][/u][/center] After long weeks of trade with the Kingdom of Asax, Erimir has begun hiring shipwrights from the neighboring nation. The excess of lumber imported into Erimir from its trade deal with Belmorn has given it enough wood to start producing a fleet to protect its interests in the southern portion of the continent. Still, it will take a few seasons before Erimir has a fleet worthy of any note. Trade with the Kingdom of Scharweilt has borne fruit as well. Erimir's goods have begun to bring in fresh supplies of fish from the growing fisheries in the island nation. [center][b][u]Victims, not Victors[/u][/b][/center] This good news, however, is tainted by the dire situation in Belmorn. News of the terrible events of the war have drifted into Erimir, and the people are stirred. Action would not have been taken, however, had a lizardfolk emissary not strode into the City Hall of the capital with an ultimatum: accept the lizards of the new Empire as their ruler or die. High Sheriff Beryl Moss and the Senate have sent the emissary back to the Bloodfang Empire with the following message: [indent][i]Imperial Crown of Jouria, We of Erimir have long spoken out for peace and friendship in our region and an end to the skirmishes that plague our world. Though we have, perhaps, not always been as true to these ideals as we wish to believe, we have always striven to prove that there are other means to forging a lasting tranquility than conquest. This day, however, you have presented us with a simple ultimatum, and you have threatened our very lives should we refuse to accept your rule. We know you are capable of making this threat a reality. You have marched on Fengarde and razed that great city to the ground. You have won several battles against our friends in Belmorn. There is no doubt in our minds that you would be willing to do the same to us should we refuse your offer. It is for that very reason that we must fight. While we halflings are not averse to vassalage, we cannot stand to serve tyrants and despoilers. If we were to join you in your conquest, then we would be victims, not victors; the sacrifice of our very moral fiber would be a loss too great to accept. We shall gird our hearts and heft fire and steel to meet you on the battlefield. Gods willing, conquerors, the halflings will stand beside those who would face your wrath. High Sheriff Beryl Moss of the Republic of Erimir[/i][/indent] The halflings of Erimir are making good on their promise. The first batch of soldiers trained with the assistance of orcish drillmasters is due to be ready next week. Spears, axes, and thunderers are being prepared for this moment. [center][b][u][url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OJD8DZn6jB4]One Last Hurrah[/url][/b][/u][/center] It was all desolation. Marshal Tommen Taleteller stared out from the atop the hill at the refugees limping toward Hadelmere. A tent city had formed around the elven capital, a stark contrast to the grandeur of the elven hostels and spiraling treetop homes. Its walls of ivory stone seemed almost taunting next to those ragged pavilions and the bloodstained clothes of weary warriors and widows. All the fighting had brought some sickness upon the refugees, too, and their coughs and groans compared to the quiet, meditative stares from the elves within the city made the scene all the more crushing. The elves camped outside the city, those soldiers in their finely crafted armor, were receptive of the halfling force, despite the small size of the army that followed Tommen. Nine hundred and fifty halflings, all lightly armored and none astride any steeds, seemed even smaller before the approximately fifteen thousand elven warriors. Still, they were practically cheering as the halfling force stepped into the camp. While it certainly warmed the hearts of some of his men, Tommen knew it did not bode well for their makeshift alliance. If the elves were glad to see halfling soldiers, then that meant they were in dire straits indeed. The elves certainly didn't cheer for the halflings after their battle with Elslen. [i]Still,[/i] he thought to himself, [i]it also means we're having an impact here. We're boosting their morale, at least. That may be just enough to win the next battle.[/i] It was no longer time for idle hopes, though. Tommen marched off to meet with the elvish officers to discuss his army's role in the coming battle. [center]* * * * *[/center] Dusk came quickly. The halflings met with refugees and elves, sharing their rations freely with those who needed them. It was the halfling way, though Tommen knew most of his men would be complaining of empty stomachs come second breakfast when they realized they'd be down to three quarters' rations. Dusk gave way to evening, and the small army slept, though the Marshal did not. Come the morning he was still awake, having been pacing and thinking throughout the night. Tommen had his officers round up his men, and the Marshal stood at a makeshift podium of barrels in the center of their camp. All his soldiers' faces were on him. "I am not a man for great, inspirational speeches," he began, setting his hands on the wood before him. "This is... new territory for me. I am a soldier first and foremost. I will lead you into no battle I would not fight in myself. I will give you no order I would not myself obey. You know this. You have all served under my leadership, and I am proud to be your commander." The Marshal pressed his knuckles down hard upon the barrel, taking a deep breath. "I will not lie to you. There is no promise of victory in the coming battle. We outnumber the enemy, but they hold the ruins of Fengarde. The lizardfolk have unified, and they will certainly send more warriors should we win. This summer will be a bloody one, and we cannot be assured of reinforcements from home. in short, we may win the battle, but the war is an uncertainty. "But that has never shaken the halfling spirit, has it?" The Marshal lifted his gauntlet high. "You are veterans now, having fought some of the finest warriors to be found in Orysson. You charged at orcish warriors without an inkling of regret, and you stood proudly before the gates of their city as the High Sheriff brokered a peace. Some of you have fought off raiders and slavers, and others have stood as Irioa's sentinels against vandals and buccaneers. We are [i]heroes,[/i] and the world would be damned good to remember that. "We are going to fight these lizardfolk invaders. They may beat us in battle, but when we are done, they will ALWAYS remember what the littlefolk can do in a fight. So, let us have one last hurrah, for soon the bards will sing of our exploits! Hurrah, men! Hurrah!" The hurrah was answered in kind. Halflings lifted their swords and muskets into the air, cheering. If there was to be a battle, it would be a battle to be remembered. [center][b][u]The Struggle in Dara[/b][/u][/center] The first shipments of halfling weaponry and foodstuffs have reached Dara. Clan Gnashing has gained a bit of an edge against its opponents with this delivery, but for now is focusing on holding its ground and protecting the refugees from other clans. Erimir promises to send halfling troops to support Chief Agamar soon.